Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
"Go back to the ballroom or to your hotel room, for Christ's sake. You shouldn’t be in here wandering around—you're barely even eighteen."
"Is that what it will take?"
"For what?" he asked brusquely.
"For you to take me."
For an endless moment, all he could do was stare at me, his eyes dark with lust. Then a muscle twitched by his mouth and he shuttered his gaze. His voice was an angry rasp as he said, “For fuck’s sake. You’re a teenager. I can’t do this. I won’t.”
He disappeared back into the room. I ran and didn’t stop until I got to my room and flung myself on the bed. I wanted to hate Con for rejecting me and going back to that woman, but as I remembered his gorgeous body and the expression in those incredible blue eyes, I knew I wasn’t wrong: despite everything, Con wanted me. Badly.
And I would make sure he got what he wanted—what we both wanted. No matter what it took.
CHAPTER 3
CON
It’s only been three days since Willow started and I’m already in hell.
I stare at the papers and refuse to look up, but the words are a blur. I can’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I see her. Usually, she’s undressed. Sometimes, she’s sucking on a lollipop. Other times, it’s my dick in her mouth. I’m often spanking her. Every single time, I wake up with a dick as hard as steel. I’ve spent more time jerking off that my cock is sore as shit, but the stupid fuck still wants more.
This morning I wondered if I should even go into the office, but the thought of not seeing her was worse than walking around with a hard-on.
All my senses are fixed on the gorgeous girl leaning so close to me. Her nipples are hard and poke through her cheap white shirt, which is unbuttoned to display more than a hint of white lace hugging that delicious cleavage.
With every breath I take, I inhale her alluring scent, but it isn’t her perfume that’s making me stiffer than a pole. The musk of her arousal is detectable beneath her light floral perfume. She is fucking turned on all day, every day, and all I can think about is pushing her onto my desk and spreading her thighs wide as I bury my face in her creamy pussy.
Actually, that’s not quite true—I’m equally obsessed with pulling her on my lap and baring her perfect ass to both my eyes and my hand as I give her the hard spanking she so clearly deserves.
I know in my gut both scenarios would end the same way—with her screaming in rapture and me coming hard in her. Too bad both are also completely out of the question.
Fuck fuck fuck FUCK. Willow has had me tied up in knots for years, but there’s no way I can give her what she wants, what’s she been wanting since she was eighteen. I’m her “Uncle C,” for chrissake. She’s the very definition of “forbidden fruit”—I bet her picture is next to it in the dictionary. I’m already damned to hell for lusting after a girl half my age—the fact that my feelings started when she was way too young to know better just makes me hate myself even more.
I still remember the hungry expression on her face as she stared at me that night three years ago at the Yuletide Ball. I felt her gaze like a physical caress then, and my cock twitches insistently at the memory. I’d always had a soft spot for the sweet little daughter of my financial advisor, but suddenly my spot wasn’t so soft anymore.
Despite my filthy fantasies there was no way I could take what she offered and I hated myself for how I treated her then, but I couldn’t see any other way of forcing her away. What I didn’t realize was, that was just the beginning.
For the last three years I’ve avoided Willow like the plague while Willow has done everything she could to get us together. Finally, it seems like she’s won the battle, the minx, but I’m determined to win the war and resist her even as my cock screams at me to give in.
“Where’s Tim?” I abruptly ask, still not looking up at her. If she comes any closer to me her tit will brush against my cheek. I fight the urge to turn my face and suck that hard, pouting nipple right into my mouth.
“Tim’s taking a phone call,” she murmurs into my ear, her breath ruffling my hair. My fingers tighten on the papers I’m holding until they’re in danger of crumpling.
“Tell him to come here please when he’s off the phone—I need to go over the details of the Devonshire offer with him.”
She pauses for a moment before she whispers, “Yes, sir,” against my ear and my cock throbs hard at a vision of her saying it as I order her to suck my cock. Yes, sir, Uncle C. I’ve been a very bad girl, Uncle C. Please stuff me with your cock, Uncle C…